


True Colors

by cherie_morte



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Corsetry, Crossdressing, Drag Queens, Exhibitionism, Genderbending, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/pseuds/cherie_morte
Summary: Philip isn’t into girls, but he likes Ricki Anderton.





	True Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the amazing [riyku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riyku/pseuds/riyku). I gave her no time at all and she still did wonders with it. All remaining mistakes are my own!

Like most things in Lukas's life, it starts with Motocross. At least, that’s what he claims. The way the pads hugged him, pulled his waist in, made it just that little bit harder to breathe.

When he finally brings it up, it comes out whispered, like a confession, his voice tinged with a shame that Philip had thought they’d said good riddance to months ago. They’re lying in bed, twenty minutes out from their last orgasm, and Philip can’t shake the feeling that he was supposed to be asleep. That Lukas didn’t really want him to hear what he couldn’t help saying. Impulse control isn’t really one of Lukas’s virtues.

Philip heard it, though. And he has a hard time letting things go once they’re under his skin. Wouldn’t be here with Lukas, wouldn’t be anywhere near Lukas, if that wasn’t the case.

So he turns over to face his boyfriend and gives him a questioning look. Lukas is so red he might actually match the tomato sauce they had with dinner.

“Never mind,” he grumbles as soon as he’s looking Philip in the eyes, and he tries to turn over.

Philip doesn’t let him get away with that. He climbs on top of Lukas and pins him down. Lukas flips him easily, has Philip on his back in seconds. Philip can’t—doesn’t really want to—overpower him, but he keeps struggling against Lukas’s hold anyway. It’s always a little like they’re fighting. It’s never not worth fighting for.

He finally manages to at least get his hands free and traps Lukas’s face between them, holds him at bay when Lukas tries to bite his way into a kiss.

“Hey,” he says. “Talk to me.”

Lukas turns from him, but Philip can see the blush starting to rise again. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Nuh uh, no way,” Philip replies. “C’mon.”

He watches Lukas catch his lip between his teeth and worry at it for a few seconds before finally he says, “I dunno, it’s just a thought I had. It’s stupid.”

“We do stupid stuff all the time,” Philip replies, and Lukas laughs a little at that.

It’s not _not_ true. They’ve stumbled into everything they’ve done since their first make-out session went disastrously wrong, and Philip thinks, for the most part, they’re doing a good job figuring it all out. He’s learned to pull Lukas’s hair just as he’s about to climax, that it’s like pressing a button that guarantees Lukas comes, too. Lukas has made a science out of handling Philip and pushing him around until he’s boneless, completely at Lukas’s mercy. But they’ve also had their failed experiments, the kind of stuff the internet tells him is normal for people to encounter when they’re new to sex: the too-much-lube mess and the not-nearly-enough lube mess and the kinks that were way, way better in theory.

This one, though, he didn’t see coming.

“I thought it might be kind of hot,” Lukas says again, and then his voice drops until it’s practically a whisper, “wearing a corset and stuff. I mean. I really liked it when you choked me last week…”

That’s not what he’d said before, not all of it, at least. What he said was a question, one Philip knows Lukas is too afraid to get an answer to. _Have you ever thought of dressing me up like a girl?_

And, okay, honestly, the thought never had occurred to Philip. If it had, he would have expected Lukas to want _Philip_ to be the one in the skirt, and it just would have brought up all the doubt and uncertainty and jealousy he felt when Lukas was still trying to convince the whole world that he was straight.

But this? This is something Philip can work with.

_______________________________________________________________

He doesn’t make a big deal out of it. Neither of them brings it up again after they drift to sleep. Lukas is probably embarrassed enough to have mentioned it at all that he’s hoping Philip forgot about it by the time he woke up the next morning. Philip needs some time to gather everything—working part-time at Gabe’s clinic doesn’t exactly pay big money, and apparently drag is a damn expensive hobby.

Once he has everything together, he takes it all over to Lukas’s in a backpack and lays it out on the bed while Lukas is out on the farm doing chores for his dad. Usually, Lukas jumps in the shower as soon as he gets back to the house, because he knows that Philip doesn’t particularly enjoy the way he smells after he’s been out in the sun feeding animals for hours, so he’s dripping wet and clean, ready for a new outfit by the time he returns to his room.

It’s easy enough for Philip to slip out before Lukas sees what he’s done, muttering something about how long Lukas tied up the bathroom and how he needs to piss.

See, the thing is, he knows Lukas. There are some things about him that they’ve had to confront, but it’s been a lot and it’s been hard, and Philip doesn’t ever want to push more than necessary. So, if Lukas isn’t ready for this or doesn’t want to do it, it’s not a conversation they need to have. He leaves the clothes set out on the bed for Lukas to find while he’s getting dressed, and he’ll either be wearing it when Philip gets back or he won’t.

Mostly, Philip expects to return to find Lukas in a t-shirt and jeans, the frills and laces tucked away from sight never to be acknowledged again.

There’s some of him that hopes he’ll get to see how it looks, even if Lukas decides it’s not for him. The thought of it was pretty hot to him: his very butch boyfriend, dressed up in the tight corset and fluffy skirt Philip provided, perched precariously on heels in a size so large that Philip searched seven websites of women’s footwear before he learned there were online retailers dedicated to catering to this specifically.

At no point does he expect to return to find this, though.

Lukas is dressed up when Philip knocks once and lets himself into his bedroom. He’s standing in front of his mirror observing himself, and that’s all fine until he turns to face Philip, and then things start happening that make Philip’s entire world tilt on its axis.

The face that greets him is familiar enough, but it’s somehow completely different, too. The sharp features Philip knows so well now have make-up drawing attention to them: blue eyes popping against mascara and eyeliner, dramatic cheekbones pink with blush, his lips a darker red than Philip’s ever seen them, even when they’re bitten raw, but with a glossy shine, and his icy blonde hair is pinned back with clips.

Philip swallows hard, imagining how Lukas might have even learned how to make himself look like this, wondering if he sits in front of the mirror sometimes, plumping his lips and batting his eyes at himself, trying to feel like someone elegant and gentle instead of the rough and tumble jock he’s always been expected to embody. Philip didn’t buy him any make-up, which means it was already here. And to think he had tried to play it off like it was just some passing thought he had while they were post-orgasm and half asleep.

“Do I look stupid?” Lukas asks, glancing down at himself and trying to smooth out the skirt.

Philip huffs and takes a step into the room, shaking his head. “Do you feel stupid?”

“I don’t know.” Lukas shrugs. “A little.” He bites his lip then and looks up at Philip through his heavy lashes and admits, “Not really.”

“You like it?” Philip reaches out for him, takes Lukas’s hand and kisses it.

Lukas gets even pinker under all that blush, but he nods. His voice is soft, almost dainty, completely different from the pitch of it that Philip has memorized, as if it’s a slightly changed person standing here with him. “Am I pretty?”

Philip trusts his instinct and instead of answering Lukas’s question with words, he reaches out to the dresser where he’d left his backpack and pulls his camera out. He starts snapping shot after shot, and instead of shying away from leaving evidence, Lukas opens up and smiles at him like he’s never done before.

After the impromptu photoshoot, Philip flips through a few of the images, showing Lukas his favorites, and he can tell from the quiet gasps at his side that Lukas sees exactly what Philip does captured in the photographs.

Whoever that girl in the pictures is, she’s not just pretty. She’s _beautiful_.

_______________________________________________________________

Before Philip threw the pale pink grenade into their evening, they had big plans for tonight. Months of wheedling and therapy and Lukas finally, _finally_ agreed to let Philip take him to the club he’d refused to go into on their first trip to the city together.

He expects that to get sidelined once Lukas is all dressed up, but apparently Lukas is full of surprises right now, because he’s the one that slaps Philip’s knees after they spend too long going through pictures and says, “Hey, we better get going. We’ll miss our bus.”

The only moment of hesitation happens early, when they walk out of the bedroom. Lukas lingers in the hallway, whispers, “My dad isn’t down there, is he?” and waits for Philip to scope it out, make sure Bo is still out grocery shopping before he risks being seen. Philip expects a whole night of that, but once they’re out of the house, Lukas begins to relax into what they’re doing, more than he’ll usually allow himself when they go out in Tivoli.

That makes Philip frown just a little, the fact that Lukas still feels like he needs to disguise himself to be himself, but then Lukas takes his hand as they’re boarding the bus, blows a kiss to the man behind them when they notice him staring, and Philip thinks, maybe hiding is not what this is about at all. Maybe this _is_ Lukas, some part of him that’s never gotten to breathe before. Maybe it’s kind of a really big deal that he’s comfortable enough with Philip to let him see it and that he’s comfortable enough with himself to wear it out in public, cheap metal cage corset like a suit of armor guarding against all the self-doubt and shame he usually wears.

By the time they make it to True Colors and get in the line outside the bar, Lukas is acting so giddy that Philip would think he was already a little tipsy if he hadn’t been with him all night. They walk up to the doorman and hand him their IDs, and Philip gets a little nervous when it goes on longer than usual, like the guard is seriously unconvinced that they’re old enough to go inside.

“Rick Anderton, huh?” the guy asks, squinting to try to get a better look at Lukas’s face through all the make-up. “That you?”

Philip knows where this is going, that they’re about to get quizzed on the fake birthdays and addresses printed on their cards, and he also knows Lukas won’t be able to answer.

He’s trying to think of some way to talk them into the club when Lukas—his Lukas, Lukas who didn’t string together ten words at once for the first three months Philip knew him and who he has never seen voluntarily interact with someone in public—leans forward and says, as if this is the most natural thing in the world for him, “Its Ricki tonight, darling.”

Immediately, the bear standing in front of them changes his demeanor, slipping from suspicious to charmed so fast it makes Philip’s head spin. “That right? Well, lucky for you, miss. It’s Senorita Saturday and ladies get half off drinks.”

Lukas grins at that, pushing Philip forward a little as he takes their IDs back from the bouncer and winks at the guy. “A lady never pays for her own drinks.”

“That’s why I’ve got a skirt at home, too!” the guard calls after them and then they’re through the door, the music pounding hard enough that they can’t hear if he says anything else.

“Ricki?” Philip asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” She bites her bottom lip, getting red stained on her teeth, making it obvious she’s not used to wearing lipstick in a way that is nonetheless incredibly endearing. “What else could it be, right?”

Philip shakes his head fondly and stops right there in the middle of the club, dragging Lukas or Ricki or whoever the hell in for a kiss. She returns it easily, then spins as she pulls away from it, her skirt flowing out in a circle around her. “Get me drunk enough so I don’t feel like a complete asshole dancing.”

A year late, Lukas stays for one drink, and a few more after that. They grind on the dance floor until they’re both panting, hot and sweaty from the press of all the people around them, and finally there’s a whisper in Philip’s ear, Ricki telling him that she needs to catch her breath, the lack of air from the corset getting to be too much to ignore.

He lets her take his hand and tug him through the sea of people, until they find a dark little corner to rest in. Philip crowds her up against the wall and kisses her, and then she turns her head, looks back at Philip with an expression on her face so dirty it would drive the devil to church.

Philip gets it immediately when she cranes her neck to the left and he follows her gaze, realizing there’s a mirrored wall next to them.

“You’re joking, right?” he asks. “Here? There’s a million people.”

“We’re tucked away,” she says, and her hands wrap around Philip grabbing his ass. “It’s not like there aren’t a hundred other guys fucking in every corner of this club.”

“ _I_ know that,” Philip replies, huffing a laugh. “Just surprised. You wouldn’t even come in here a few months ago and suddenly you wanna—?”

“Want you,” Ricki tells him, and now she does sound like the Lukas Philip knows and loves. “What do you want?”

Just for a moment, he glances at the mirror and imagines it, that pretty, pale, waifish girl in the padded skirt and heels fucking rough into Philip like only Lukas can. He swallows hard, and a mouth full of lipstick-smeared teeth smiles back at him knowingly.

Philip tends to give in easier than he’d like when Lukas has a crazy idea, and apparently he’s just as much of a sucker for Ricki. He turns, bracing himself on the wall, and lets big, familiar hands undo the front of his pants, push them down just far enough to expose his ass. Not a second passes before the fabric of Ricki’s skirt drops around him, covering his nudity and letting naked skin press against his.

“You aren’t wearing underwear,” Philip says stupidly, mostly because he’s too shocked to process it quietly.

“My cheapskate boyfriend didn’t buy me panties,” Ricki tells him, lips pressed to the shell of his ear.

Philip makes a mental note to buy some panties for the next time they do this, because there will definitely be a next time, and the thought of that big dick he likes so much swathed in silk and lace is enough that Philip is already half hard by the time Ricki wraps her hand around his dick and starts stroking it.

“Lube,” he says. “My back pocket.”

He feels the jostle as she wrestles the packet out of his jeans without dropping their cover and hears a soft laugh. “And you were acting all scandalized.”

“Well, I figured we were gonna fuck. I didn’t figure we were gonna fuck here—” Philip cuts himself off when one wet finger presses into him, and he immediately relaxes his body, wanting to spend as little time on prep as possible. He’d hate to get arrested before they finish.

Ricki is obviously in a rush, too. She barely bothers fumbling around with one finger before she presses another one in, making efficient work of scissoring Philip open. Sometimes, Lukas takes his time with this, finding Philip’s sweet spot and nearly making him come just on his long fingertips. Right now, a full minute doesn’t go by before Philip feels the slicked up head of her cock pressing against him.

“Fuck me,” he says, arching his back into her. “Please fuck me.”

“Such a good boy,” she says, almost a purr as she shoves into him. “Look at us.”

Philip puts one arm up on the wall for leverage and rests his face on it, turned toward the mirror. It’s a mindfuck as much as it’s anything, Ricki’s long, tall body towering over him where he’s bent down, and even though he looks more masculine, he’s never seemed so small. Half of him is disappearing under her skirt, but he can feel the things he only vaguely sees in the reflection, the way her hips are pumping into him, following the thump of the bass in the club, the only reminder that there’s a whole world going on here outside of what they’re doing.

“Fuck,” Philip moans. “This is so hot. God, don’t stop.”

“Never thought you would want to do this,” she admits, but in typical Lukas fashion, her soft words are hidden under her rough touch as she slams him into the wall, pressing in so deep Philip is practically glued to the plaster.

Philip grunts in response, canting his hips so that his cock slides a little faster in her palm. “Apparently, I’m into it.”

Ricki laughs behind him, but her laughter loses out to a groan. She changes her angle slightly, so that she hits Philip’s prostate on every shift of her hips. That’s how he knows she’s close, and he can’t help teasing a little, grinding back on her cock and throwing her rhythm off.

She curses and Philip sees her head fall back and her eyes drop shut as she begins to come, sooner than she expected.

“You’re an asshole,” she says after a long moan, and Philip feels her come starting the flood him. “Fuck, I couldn’t help it.”

Philip grins, closing his eyes as her wrist picks up its pace, and he doesn’t have to tell her that he’s close, too. They’re teenage boys in love, and at this point getting each other off is muscle memory. She twists her wrist at the head of his cock just a few times, and Philip spills into her palm, taking only a moment to bask in the orgasm before Ricki pulls away and Philip has to gather his wits enough to pull his pants back up before someone sees him. The last thing in the world he wants is to have to call Helen to bail them out and have to explain what they were doing.

By the time he’s gotten himself together enough to look back to Ricki, she’s staring down at the jizz in her hand with a look on her face like she’s clearly weighing how gross it is to keep it there against how much she doesn’t want to ruin her skirt by wiping it off.

Philip takes her palm in his and licks it clean, looking up to see her wrinkling her nose.

“That’s not less disgusting,” she informs him.

He rolls his eyes, letting her hand drop and inclining his head toward the exit. “You wanna head home?”

“You kidding?” she asks, a big, open grin on her face nothing like the tight-lipped and withdrawn boy Lukas was the first time they came here. It’s not the lipstick that’s different about her smile and it’s not eyeliner making her eyes so bright, but they certainly help highlight the changes.

“Just one more drink?” Philip offers.

Unlike Rick, she nods her head and follows him to the bar. Philip isn’t into girls, but he likes Ricki Anderton.


End file.
